


Deceived

by AmberBrown



Series: Earning Their Keep [28]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-18 02:04:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: 'Stepping from the shadows the leader of a group of black-clad hired thugs nodded to his men, now was the time to attack. Fixing their scarves over their faces, they followed the unsuspecting soldiers.The soldiers tried to fight back, but the men had numbers on their sides. With one soldier unconscious on the ground, it did not take much to bundle the other away despite his protests and obvious worry for his friend.'Armais and Porthos are attacked, but the attacker hasn't quite got his facts straight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story mentions the events of my earlier story ‘Breaking Point’ quite a lot. If you have not read that all you need to know is that Aramis and d’Artagnan are in an established relationship and Aramis was arrested for sodomy and interrogated (tortured) for several days before being released due to a lack of evidence and the confession of another Musketeer for the same crime.

The two soldiers did not stand a chance. They were not paying attention to their surroundings, thinking their uniforms made them untouchable. They turned into a side road talking about their work. 

Stepping from the shadows the leader of a group of black-clad hired thugs nodded to his men, now was the time to attack. Fixing their scarves over their faces, they followed the unsuspecting soldiers.

The soldiers tried to fight back, but the men had numbers on their sides. With one soldier unconscious on the ground, it did not take much to bundle the other away despite his protests and obvious worry for his friend. 

The entire attack had lasted less than five minutes.

MMMM

‘He’s got to go...he’s rubbish. Aramis just face facts, George is not going to make it as a Musketeer.’

Porthos looked across at Aramis who shook his head unwilling to accept what he was saying. 

‘And don’t say that he should get more of a chance,’ continued Porthos. ‘And don’t remind me about him helping us deal with Delacroix. He didn’t even know he was helping us.’

Aramis was about to speak but Porthos cut him off again, he was determined to get his point across to his stubborn friend.

‘He can’t shoot straight and his footwork when he spars is appalling.’

‘Porthos,’ said Aramis when he was finally allowed to speak, ‘I hear you. And I’ve listened to Athos as well, I know he’s behind the other cadets that joined at the same time as him-’

‘He’s behind some of the ones that joined after him.’

‘-but he is improving,’ continued Aramis, ignoring Porthos’ interruption.

‘He’s not improving quickly enough.’

Porthos knew there was no point continuing with the conversation. He was starting to think he would not be able to persuade his friend that it was time to tell the unfortunate cadet that he was not cut out for soldiering. George was a pleasant young man but had already shown them several times that he did not have the aggression within him that a soldier needed. Porthos had seen the young man freeze up when sparring on more than one occasion when things got out of hand. He hated to imagine what the man would be like in a skirmish or on the battlefield. 

Aramis was usually the one to tell the cadets that they could not continue. But as Aramis was not prepared to accept that George needed to go Porthos knew he would not be prepared to tell the young man. Porthos wondered if d’Artagnan could let the young man down instead. He knew Aramis would not allow him to do it as he had often been accused of being too direct with the failing cadets.

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes. 

‘I’ll give him some extra training, see if I can get him caught up with the other men…’

Porthos sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes.

‘You are very annoying at times,’ he said with a nudge of his shoulder against Aramis’.

‘I know,’ replied Aramis, ‘I am frequently told that by all of you.’

Both men smirked as they turned off the main road.

‘Antoine on the other hand...’ began Porthos.

‘I know, Treville said he’s going to have him commissioned early. His work has been exemplary,’ agreed Aramis. ‘I wish I could take credit for him, but you and d’Artagnan have worked with him the most.’

‘Well,’ chuckled Porthos, ‘the best are always trained by the best…’

It was Aramis who rolled his eyes and shook his head at the remark the second time. 

A scrape of metal on stone behind them made both men turn to look.

MMMM

Athos saluted the cadet who, although looking a little apprehensive, managed to salute in return. The swordsman hid a smile, Antoine did not need to worry, he was good with the sword. Although, Athos thought, the young man was not going to win the fight he was about to take part in.

Antoine stepped back, watching Athos carefully. They both paced around, Athos waited, knowing the young man would make the first move, his youth meant he would lack the patience to wait.

Athos read the move before he made it and easily parried the sword thrust. But the move had been a good one. The cadet moved his feet fluidly, dancing out of the way of a few of Athos simple attacks. 

Glancing across the garrison yard Athos saw d’Artagnan watching them both. Making eye contact with Athos, d’Artagnan nodded his approval. Athos knew the nod from d’Artagnan was an indicator that he agreed that it was time to put Antoine through his paces. 

Athos stopped holding back against the younger man. It did not take Antoine long to realise his opponent was putting his full force behind the sword strokes. Athos was pleased that Antoine took the challenge in his stride. 

They traded blows moving about the garrison yard. Athos managed to manoeuvre the younger man backwards a few paces, almost getting him against the steps leading to the upper floors of the garrison. But the wily cadet had worked out the move and managed to sidestep at the last moment surprising Athos into taking an extra step forward.

‘Very good,’ Athos said with a shake of his head.

Antoine managed a smile between panted breaths. 

With renewed vigour, Antoine went on the attack, but Athos was ready for him and after playing exactly the same move managed to cause the cadet to become caught between the table and the wall. As Antoine went to swing his sword he knocked against the wall. Athos took his moment and rushed forward pushing the man backwards, tripping him over the bench and leaving him on the floor.

‘And that, Antoine,’ said d’Artagnan as he leaned over the young man, ‘is how you win a swordfight.’

Antoine looked a little annoyed but did take the offered hand from the Musketeer. 

Athos dropped his sword onto the table and poured two cups of water, handing one to Antoine.

‘You cannot expect predictability,’ advised Athos.

Antoine was still breathing hard as he nodded. 

MMMM

Porthos was not quick enough to prevent the assault. He was grabbed by two big strong men and pushed hard into the wall of the nearest building. The move left him stunned as his head smacked against the stone. As soon as he had regained his composure he struggled against the men holding him only to find another man had joined the first two. Porthos tried to shout out but was gagged by the third man who roughly pushed a rag into his mouth muffling any noise he tried to make. Before he could spit the rag out a second piece of fabric was tied around his head securing the gag in place. 

Porthos pulled and twisted as much as he could but the two men holding him were strong. He tried to look for Aramis but could not initially see him. 

The men pinning him to the wall managed to twist him around to face it. The more he tried to resist the men the more they pushed him into the wall, one man had his hand on Porthos’ head keeping him still. He protested through the gag earning himself a punch in the back.

The men who had grabbed him were all wearing dark clothing, and wore scarves around their faces. Porthos realised they did not want to be recognised. That and the fact they were busy trying to tie his hands behind his back told Porthos that the men did not want to kill him. If they had wanted to kill him they would have done so. But the revelation did not stop Porthos from continuing to struggle against the men. 

He tried to find Aramis again, straining to look around from his position pinned firmly to the wall. 

When he finally caught a glimpse of his friend he was heartened to see the man had not been caught. He had somehow managed to fight the men off whilst Porthos was being restrained. 

Aramis was facing a big broad-shouldered man. The big man had obviously struck Aramis a couple of times as his friend was bleeding from a cut to his head, the blood streaked across his face. His friend had not had a chance to draw any of his weapons, the attack had been so sudden, taking them both by surprise, that Aramis had been forced into a fist fight. But against the much bigger man Aramis was struggling, the slight man was struck by the big man. Aramis was sent several paces to the left, slamming into the opposite wall, Porthos winced in sympathy.

But Aramis persevered, he pushed himself away from the wall and went on the attack. He grabbed at the big man’s face, pulling the scarf off him.

Porthos watched in shock as Aramis froze, the scarf still in his hands, his eyes wide. It was obvious to Porthos that his friend recognised his attacker. Whoever the big man was, the sight of him had left Aramis stunned. 

Aramis did not just look stunned or shocked. Aramis looked terrified. 

The big man laughed before stepping up to Aramis, pulling his arm back and punching him hard across the face. Aramis collapsed to the floor.

Porthos struggled against his own attackers but to no avail, he could only watch as the big man stepped towards the now unconscious Aramis and aimed a kick to the man’s head.

The strike left further cuts and grazes to Aramis’ face and head. Porthos shouted through his gag and struggled hard enough to need the third man to keep him pinned to the wall. 

Porthos wondered if he had just watched his best friend die. The kick to the head could easily have proved fatal to Aramis.

The man turned away from the still form of Aramis. He looked at Porthos and grinned. Porthos new the man as well. Porthos could understand his friend's reaction. The man who had possibly just killed Aramis was the man who had tried very hard to have him killed nearly a year before. 

Gagnon, the former interrogator at the Chatelet, grinned at him. 

MMMM

Athos watched the man and boy talking to George, who was on duty at the garrison gate. It was obvious the man had something that needed to be passed on. George looked around, making eye contact with Athos who had already risen from his place sat at the table next to Treville going through paperwork. 

‘This man says he’s seen someone fighting with Musketeers and one of them was taken and the other one left injured,’ said George a look of worry on his face.

‘Thank you, George,’ said Athos.

Treville, his curiosity piqued along with Athos said, ‘tell us what happened, Monsieur.’

‘It was my boy who saw it happen,’ said the man indicating the wide-eyed child who was clutching his father’s hand tightly. 

‘I was playing, by my fathers stall. He was busy with a customer. I saw the two soldiers turn into the road, then lots of men followed them-’

‘Like a lot of boys, Paul is fascinated by Musketeers, he thought he might see a fight.’

Paul looked up at his father who nodded for him to continue.

‘I saw the men grab one of the soldiers, the Musketeer with the dark skin, he was pushed into a wall. They were horrible to him, they pushed a rag into his mouth and tied him up.’

Athos looked at Treville who looked concerned. Athos was sure his own expression was a mirror of his Captains.

‘What happened next?’ asked Treville who crouched down in front of the young boy.

‘I was watching from around the corner, I saw the Musketeer trying to see what had happened to the other soldier. The other one, he’s the one that always smiles at my mother…’

Athos glanced at Paul’s father who nodded, ‘he’s always flirting with her. I think she enjoys it.’

Athos shook his head, Aramis was incorrigible. 

‘The other Musketeer, he was fighting with a big man. The man hit the Musketeer a few times before pushing him to the ground and kicking him. I think the Musketeer might be dead, he didn’t move any more.’

Paul had tears in his eyes.

‘He ran up to me and told me what had happened, but by the time I got to where he says it happened, there was no one there. There were signs of a fight and some splashes of blood, but that was all.’

Treville straightened up, ‘where was this monsieur?’

The man described the location of the fight. Treville thanked the man and his son and sent them on their way before turning to Athos.

‘First, we must check the area, if Aramis was left he must have regained consciousness long enough to move from where the fight took place. He could be lying injured somewhere.’

Athos nodded, ‘we will leave immediately.’

MMMM

D’Artagnan was filled with dread. When Athos had described to him what they knew of the attack on Aramis and Porthos he feared the worst. Aramis could have been killed, the only sign of hope was that he was not where the young boy had described, but the boy could have been mistaken when he took his father back to the fight location.

As they walked towards the location, he scanned the area carefully. If Aramis had been hit around the head and come around he could have wandered off in confusion. 

Then there was the concern they all had for Porthos. Why had he been taken? Why take one of them and not both? Was the attack targeted?

Athos had told him they were going to search the area of the fight first. He had collected Antoine on their way out of the garrison and sent George to prepare the infirmary. When they found Aramis - d’Artagnan was determined that they would find Aramis - they wanted to know that everything was ready for their return. 

Athos paused by a stall holder who pointed towards a side road. D’Artagnan realised the man with a young boy at his side was the one that had visited the garrison to inform them of the fight. 

They rounded the corner into the quieter road. D’Artagnan looked at the ground and saw the scuff marks where boots had been dragged or pushed. A couple of wooden boxes had been pushed askew, to the untrained eye nothing would have looked out of the ordinary but d’Artagnan could see the signs of the fight his lover and friend had been involved in. 

Antoine had wandered along the road a little he was looking around intently. Athos was looking behind the boxes and trying the handles of the nearest doors. D’Artagnan started to walk along the road slowly taking in everything he saw trying to find some clue as to what had happened. 

‘Here…’

D’Artagnan looked up, Antoine was stood several yards away looking into a recessed doorway. He knew before the cadet spoke again that it had to be Aramis that he had found. D’Artagnan took a deep breath. He wanted to be calm, he needed to prepare himself for the worst. He could not react adversely to whatever the cadet said next, he had to remain professional.

‘I think he’s dead.’

The words stung him deeply, despite it only being a suspicion d’Artagnan did not want to believe it. He could not have lost Aramis in this way. They were soldiers they were supposed to die in battle or protecting the King, not in a dimly lit road for no reason. D’Artagnan rushed forward, he pushed the cadet aside.

Aramis was lying slumped in the doorway. It looked as though he had tried to reach the door handle but not managed it. There was significant bruising to his face and head, blood covered half of his face. A nasty gash on the side of his head the cause of the bleeding. Even in the dim light, d’Artagnan could see that Aramis was still breathing steadily. He looked back at Athos and Antoine.

‘He’s alive,’ he said.

The simple statement caused Athos to sigh in relief. Antoine’s expression did not change, he remained concerned. 

Athos turned to the young man, ‘search the area, see if you can find anything out of the ordinary. Question the locals, find out if anyone else saw or heard anything.’

Antoine nodded before walking off, back towards the main road. 

‘Stay with him, I will find us some transport.’

D’Artagnan nodded as Athos walked away.

Turning back to Aramis, d’Artagnan rearranged the unconscious man so that he was lying on his back and slowly checked him for any other injuries. The fact that he had managed to move even a few yards from the site of the fight was a good sign. 

All of Aramis’ weapons were still in his weapon belts, it did not look as though he had even used any of them. The attack must have taken both men by surprise. There did not appear to be any other significant injuries, although d’Artagnan would not be able to check Aramis properly until they had got him back to the garrison and he could strip him down.

D’Artagnan glanced around, wondering again why Porthos had been taken and Aramis left for dead?

MMMM

Porthos had refused to walk for the men who had hold of him, he had struggled against them until one of them had pulled his gun and pushed it into the side of his head. Rather than continue to struggle Porthos had simply stopped moving. The men were forced to drag him further along the road, passed Aramis who remained unmoving, sprawled on the cobbles and towards a waiting carriage. 

They had forced him into the carriage, pushed him to the floor and held him there. As he was face down Porthos could not easily keep track of the turns or how far the carriage went. He had no idea where he was when they pulled him back out again. They forced his head down to stop him from looking around and pushed him through a door into a dark corridor. 

There could not have been many, if any, windows in the corridor as torches were hooked along the walls. Porthos managed to see to the side enough to guess they were entering an old building. Barred doors were spaced along the wall at regular intervals. But where ever he had been brought was abandoned. There were clear signs of a lack of upkeep. The building was not actively being used. 

Gagnon was leading the men, Porthos could not guess what the man wanted with him. He vaguely recalled that the interrogator had been dismissed from his job after Aramis had been released. It had been mentioned by a couple of the cadets one evening not long after Aramis had been able to return to full duties. The mention of the Chatelet interrogator had affected his friend. Aramis had quietly risen from the table they had been sat at in the tavern and walked out. D’Artagnan had followed him, they had not seen either man again until the next morning at muster. D’Artagnan had assured them that Aramis was fine, the memories that had been dragged up at the mention of the man had meant Aramis had wanted some time alone. 

And now, Porthos wondered if Gagnon had managed to do what he had wanted to do all those months before. Had he finally caused Aramis’ death? Porthos had not been able to tell if Aramis was still alive as he was dragged past. The injuries to his friend’s head looked bad. 

But the question still remained, what did they want with him? Porthos had not had anything to do with Aramis’ arrest, he had not even been in the city at the time.

Gagnon had stopped at one of the barred doors, he was unlocking it. One of the other men was holding a gun, pointing it towards the cell. Porthos guessed there was someone else in the cell being kept away from the door by the threat of the gun. 

The door open Porthos was forced through. He was pushed against the wall opposite the door where manacles hung attached to the stone wall. He was forced to kneel, a gun was pushed into the back of his head. He remained still as the men untied his hands. He was roughly pushed about as his weapons belt and doublet were pulled off him, before the men snapped the manacles around his wrists. 

The men retreated from the room. None had said a word. Porthos remained where he was until he heard the door being slammed shut and a key turn in the lock. He heard the men’s footsteps as they walked away. 

A movement to his left drew his attention, he could not help the confused expression on his face as he recognised the other occupant of the cell.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Was there any sign of Porthos?’ asked Treville as he watched his unconscious Musketeer being laid on one of the beds in the infirmary.

Athos shook his head, ‘there was signs of a fight but nothing else. Aramis was found in a doorway, it appears he managed to move a short distance, perhaps to try to get help before passing out.’

Treville asked, ‘and we have no idea what this could be about?’

Athos shook his head.

‘What are his injuries?’

Treville crossed the room to stand by the bed and watched as d'Artagnan and Antoine pushed the unconscious man up to sit and eased his doublet off.

‘We’ll know for sure once we’ve stripped him, but as far as I can tell it’s only the injury to his head. He’s shown no signs of waking.’

Treville was proud of d’Artagnan, who, despite the situation, was maintaining his professional outward persona. As long as Antoine and George were in the room d’Artagnan could not react to the fact that the man they were busy tending to was his lover. Treville would dismiss the two cadets as soon as practical. He did not want d’Artagnan to continue to be forced to bottle up his emotions. They were all worried about Aramis but d’Artagnan had more invested in the man than the rest of them. 

As Aramis’ shirt was pulled off him they were presented with several more bruises on his arm and torso.

D’Artagnan spent a few minutes feeling across the unconscious man’s chest before sitting back as George started to clean the cut to Aramis’ head and the grazes across his face.

‘There’s nothing broken, he’s just been punched a few times as far as I can tell and then kicked. His breathing is fine...we’ve just got to wait for him to wake up.’

Treville nodded, ‘good. I can get Lemay in if necessary, but I doubt his prognosis would be any different.’

George was busy with his cloth, wiping the blood off Aramis’ face and neck when the injured man moaned.

George sat back staring at him. D’Artagnan leaned forward.

‘Aramis?’

Aramis moved slightly and moaned again.

‘You’re in the infirmary, you’re safe.’

The only answer he received was another moan of pain.

‘Can you tell us what happened? Aramis…’

Treville stepped forward, he gently moved d’Artagnan out of the way realising they would need to take a more direct approach with the injured man. He also knew d’Artagnan would struggle to be forceful with Aramis whilst he was in such obvious pain. 

Leaning over the injured man Treville placed his hands on Aramis’ shoulders and shook him firmly. 

‘Aramis. Look at me, it’s Treville. I need you to concentrate.’

Aramis managed to open his eyes and looked at him. He looked unfocused, but he managed to speak. 

‘Porthos…’

‘Do you know what happened?’

Aramis started to close his eyes again.

‘No. Aramis. I need you awake for a few more moments. What happened?’

Aramis opened his eyes again with more focus. Treville was sure he saw fear cross the injured man’s features.

‘Gagnon...it was Gagnon…’

Aramis’ breathing had sped up. Treville could see obvious distress in his soldier. He glanced across to Athos and d’Artagnan. Athos looked shocked, d’Artagnan looked confused. Treville returned his attention to Aramis.

‘Did you see what happened to Porthos?’

Aramis was trying to stay conscious but losing the battle quickly. With an effort, he looked at Treville for a second before shaking his head slightly. Aramis closed his eyes again, his breathing eventually settling back to normal. 

‘Who’s Gagnon?’ asked George as he went back to cleaning the unconscious Musketeer’s face.

‘Not someone either of you will have heard of,’ said Treville, reaching out and taking the cloth from the cadet. ‘Could you both leave us? Thank you for your help, but we’ll take it from here.’

George nodded and after a last concerned look at Aramis walked from the room followed by Antoine.

‘I don’t know who Gagnon is either,’ said d’Artagnan as he took over the care of Aramis.

‘He must have talked about his time in the Chatelet with you?’ said Athos with obvious surprise.

‘Of course…’

‘Gagnon was the chief interrogator. The man who interrogated Aramis when he was there.’

D’Artagnan stared at Treville open-mouthed. 

‘He talked about it, in detail...it didn’t occur to me that he never said the name of his interrogator.’

‘Why would Gagnon take Porthos?’ said Athos looking between his Captain and d’Artagnan.

‘I have no idea,’ replied Treville.

MMMM

D’Artagnan was pleased that Treville had sent the two cadets from the room. Even more so when he realised who Gagnon was. It shocked him when he understood who Aramis had mentioned in the couple of minutes he had been awake. The situation made no sense. 

They knew that the interrogator had been annoyed that Aramis had been released from the Chatelet, they knew that he had been dismissed from his service with his group of assistants shortly afterwards and they knew that Gagnon had been very annoyed that he had not been able to break the Musketeer whilst he was in his charge. 

So why take Porthos and leave Aramis? 

He continued to clean his lover’s face, wiping away the blood that was still seeping from the cut to the side of his head. 

‘Will that need stitching?’ asked Athos who had pulled up a chair to sit on the other side of Aramis.

D’Artagnan nodded.

‘I will do it,’ Athos continued decisively. 

D’Artagnan was grateful. He knew he was more than capable of dealing with the injury but even he was ready to admit that the whole event had shocked him. 

Treville had moved a few paces away, he was looking out of the infirmary window, watching as Antoine and George crossed the garrison yard and disappeared into the mess. D’Artagnan wondered what his Captain was thinking. Two of his men had been attacked, one was still missing and none of them could really work out why.

He had to admit to thinking they had left the whole incident behind them. Aramis did not seem haunted by it anymore, he had physically recovered and over the weeks and months had stopped dwelling on it. His incarceration and the circumstances of his release could have left a lesser man completely broken, but d’Artagnan knew that Aramis was made of stronger stuff. What had happened that morning would affect him, but d’Artagnan suspected it would make him angry rather than melancholy.

‘What does he want?’ muttered Treville before walking from the room.

D’Artagnan watched him go before glancing at Athos who had finished stitching the cut to Aramis’ head. Athos shrugged his shoulders before rising from the chair and crossing to the window.

‘It’s Tremblay,’ he said, turning back to d’Artagnan.

Tremblay, the Red Guards field medic, had visited the garrison once before after a young guardsman was viciously raped and managed to stumble to the Musketeer garrison for help. The Red Guard Captain had arrived a couple of hours later, with Tremblay, to see his man who had been cared for by Aramis. Where the Red Guard Captain was aggressive towards Aramis, the medic, who obviously did not approve of his Captain’s behaviour had thanked him sincerely.

D’Artagnan could hear a brief conversation outside the infirmary between Treville and one of the longer serving Musketeers.

‘Paul, he wouldn’t have come here on his own if he was going to attack us.’

D’Artagnan could not hear the reply from Paul.

‘Look at the state of him, he’s clearly been in a fight recently, why would he come here for another one?’

There was a pause before the infirmary door was pushed open, Treville entered with Tremblay close behind him.

‘I will watch him, and make sure he does not attack anyone,’ Treville said sarcastically to the Musketeer outside before closing the door.

Tremblay had walked a few feet into the room. The medic, who was a little older than d’Artagnan stopped and stared at Aramis.

‘I’m sorry...I...if I’d known you had your own problems...I wouldn’t have come...it’s just…’

Treville had moved to the table, he pulled out a chair before gently pushing the Red Guardsman into it.

‘We have an issue that needs to be dealt with, yes, but I am curious as to your visit,’ said Treville.

Tremblay, whose clothes were dirty and mud-streaked, nodded. He was sporting a couple of darkening bruises on his face, along with accompanying grazes and had been limping slightly when he walked into the room.

‘I rather hoped you might help me. But you’ve got your own problems...was he attacked?’

D’Artagnan nodded, ‘yes, a couple of hours ago. What happened to you?’

Tremblay refocused on d’Artagnan, ‘we were attacked a couple of hours ago as well.’

‘Who is we?’ asked Athos, who was as intrigued as the others. 

‘Pierre and myself. I was knocked out...although my injuries are obviously not as bad as his. Has he come around yet?’ Trembley nodded towards Aramis.

‘Briefly,’ said Treville. ‘Who attacked you?’

‘That’s the thing, it was...it was some of the men from the Chatelet, the ones that were part of the team that interrogated Aramis...that’s why I came here.’

D’Artagnan stared at Tremblay, unable to hide his shock, ‘Aramis, when he came around. He said he was attacked by his interrogator...they took Porthos.’

‘They took Pierre,’ replied Tremblay.

‘What is this about?’ asked Treville.

They all looked at each other. Athos broke the silence.

‘I think it is about him,’ he said looking at the still form of Aramis lying on the bed in front of him. 

‘He helped Pierre...when he was attacked,’ said Tremblay, ‘why would that make Pierre a target? I can understand Porthos being a target, if they want to upset Aramis, it’s well known that they are best mates. But Pierre?’

‘Pierre aided Aramis’ landlady when we went to petition the Cardinal during Aramis’ stay at the Chatelet,’ said Athos, ‘and he was at Berger execution...he was clearly struggling not to react to the event...perhaps Gagnon sees Pierre as someone who has helped Aramis? Who sympathised with him. It still seems a bit tenuous.’

D’Artagnan, who had been looking at his lover said, ‘does Gagnon just want revenge? Want to hurt him by taking people who he is friends with? Although his link with Pierre is quite weak, it is there. He spoke about Pierre and how bad he felt for him quite a lot.’

Tremblay nodded, ‘I think you and Aramis made quite an impression on him.’

D’Artagnan wondered what Tremblay meant. Tremblay realised what he had inferred and quickly continued.

‘er...I meant...he was impressed with the way you both looked after him.’

It was obvious to the Musketeers that the worried looking Red Guardsman knew that Aramis and d’Artagnan were in a relationship. 

Treville said, ‘why have you come to us and not gone to Captain Paquet?’ 

Treville had clearly decided to move the conversation away from d’Artagnan and Aramis. Tremblay seemed grateful. D’Artagnan was sure Tremblay would not say anything, he had experience protecting Pierre, who shared the same sexual inclinations. 

‘I did go to my Captain but he doesn’t care for Pierre. He actually told me not to worry about it. He was aware of him struggling at the execution and has decided he is not fit to be guardsman. If he could dismiss Pierre, he would.’

Treville shook his head in disgust. D’Artagnan knew that Pierre was a relatively quiet soldier but he was dedicated and from what he remembered reasonable with a sword.

‘I think,’ said Athos, ‘we can conclude that Porthos and Pierre have been taken by the same group...we know they have been taken by the same group,’ he corrected himself.

‘I hope they are together,’ said Tremblay. ‘He’s a good Guardsman, but I can’t imagine Pierre alone with a group of men who have attacked him.’

‘If they are together, I’m sure they will look out for each other,’ said d’Artagnan, knowing that Porthos would want to help Pierre as much as he could.

The turn of events did not help them to locate their missing friends, but it had given them further information. They knew the attack was orchestrated by Gagnon, although they still did not know why.

MMMM

Athos pulled out a chair next to Tremblay and looked at him for a few seconds. The Red Guardsman seemed a little confused before he took in the bowl of water and cloth in Athos’ hand.

‘How long were you unconscious for?’ asked Athos who knew the man might not be as well as he was making out.

‘I don’t think it was long,’ replied Tremblay as he allowed the Musketeer to clean the cuts to his face. 

Athos nodded, he did not want the man to pass out on them if he was hiding a more serious injury. 

‘We need to make a list of possible places Gagnon could have taken them,’ said Treville who had gone back to staring out of the window. 

Athos finished his ministrations with Tremblay who still looked a little unfocused. It annoyed him that the man’s own Captain cared so little for his man or was bothered that another had been taken by a group of thugs. Treville was the opposite, he was clearly worried and had even accepted Tremblay to their little group without a word against him.

‘When Gagnon was dismissed the Cardinal had him and his men thrown out of his rooms near the Chatelet. I was with the men who oversaw the eviction. I overheard the men talking about where they would go. We could start there.’

‘Good,’ said Treville, ‘we need to start somewhere.’

Athos watched Treville open and close a couple of cupboards before finding paper, quill and ink. He lay the paper down in front of Tremblay.

‘Make a list of the places you think they could be. Places that they could hold two men captive will be of particular interest.’

Tremblay nodded, ‘keeping two soldiers would mean they need somewhere secure. Pierre may be a slight young man but he is as wily as they come. I’ve seen him get out of some sticky situations...and Porthos, well there are enough of my comrades who have been on the wrong end of him during a brawl.’

Tremblay managed a smile as he spoke. Athos nodded his agreement.

The Red Guardsman worked in silence for a few minutes, writing with a neat but looping hand. When he had finished Treville moved the paper and quill towards Athos who understood and took up the task.

Soon they had a list of potential places to check. Athos looked up at the start of the list and realised Tremblay’s list duplicated his own in three places. 

‘I think we have our starting point,’ said Treville.

MMMM

Pierre tugged at the chains on the wall again. Porthos shook his head he knew it was no use, but the young guardsman seemed determined to keep trying.

‘Pierre,’ he said laying his hand over the younger man’s, ‘you won’t be able to do it. They look rusted, but they ain’t moving.’

Pierre finally admitted defeat and stepped away from the wall. He wandered to the barred door and peered as best he could along the corridor in both directions. 

After the men who had locked them in the cell had retreated and Gagnon had sneered at Porthos for a few seconds they had been left alone. The heavy door at the end of the corridor had swung shut with a foreboding thud. 

Pierre, who had clearly been in a fight, had stared at him for several seconds before he stepped forward and began his futile attempt to pull the chain leading to Porthos’ manacles from the wall. 

‘Why did they take you?’ asked Pierre after he had ascertained they were alone.

Porthos shook his head, ‘I have no idea…’

‘You know who that is don’t you?’

‘Gagnon,’ said Porthos with derision. 

‘He’s had it in for the Cardinal since...since he had to let Aramis go. I think he blames the Cardinal.’

Porthos was surprised, ‘the Cardinal was not exactly pleased himself that he didn’t get to execute two Musketeers.’

Pierre turned back to face Porthos, ‘I know. But I don’t think Gagnon saw it like that.’ He paused for a moment, ‘is Aramis away? I’d have thought Gagnon would want to get him...not you.’

‘Aramis was with me when they attacked.’

Pierre looked confused.

‘Gagnon might have got his wish,’ said Porthos quietly.

‘Was he killed?’

‘I don’t know. Gagnon managed to knock him to the ground then kicked him in the head. I didn’t get a chance to see if he was still alive.’

Pierre moved to sit next to Porthos who was leaning against the stone wall, the short chain on the manacles forcing him to keep his hands at shoulder height.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

Porthos nodded, ‘I’m going to work on the assumption that he’s fine. He’s always fine.’

They lapsed into silence. 

‘Why didn’t they chain you up?’ asked Porthos after a few moments.

Pierre was not restrained in any way, other than missing his weapons and doublet and suffering a few bruises the man was untouched. 

‘I suppose they don’t see me as much of a threat,’ replied the Guardsman. ‘You should be flattered.’

Porthos huffed out a laugh, ‘I don’t feel very flattered. They obviously ain’t seen you fighting. I’ve seen you on occasion. You’re not bad with a sword.’

Pierre managed a brief smile, ‘thank you.’

‘We can use their complacency to our advantage,’ continued Porthos, ‘if they think you ain’t a threat that makes you the more dangerous of us. They’ll watch me. But they won’t be watching you so careful.’

The Guardsman nodded his understanding. Before he could reply the heavy door at the end of the corridor creaked on its hinges as it was pushed open. Already in character, Pierre moved to sit in the corner of their cell, he drew his knees up and made himself as small as possible. Porthos thought the young man could give Aramis a run for his money with his acting skills.

Gagnon appeared at the door. Neither incarcerated man could hide the slight trepidation that crossed their faces. They still did not know what the former interrogator wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

‘What do you think that was about?’ asked Antoine as he poured himself and George some wine.

They were sat at a table in the mess having just been given a bowl of stew each by Serge. The cadets had missed the main meal due to helping the Musketeers bring Aramis back and his initial care. They had seen the Red Guardsman being escorted into the infirmary but nothing further had happened across the yard.

‘It’s not really our place to speculate,’ replied George.

George thought highly of Antoine’s skills and bravery and felt honoured to be the young man’s friend. But Antoine did have a habit of trying to find out things that were not really anything to do with him. 

A few weeks before something had happened between Aramis and a visiting Bishop that had caused the Captain and the inseparables to act in a particularly secretive manner. Whilst George had accepted that whatever was happening was important but none of his business, Antoine had gone out of his way to find out what it was. He had managed to get himself patrol duty with the Musketeers as often as he could in the hope of overhearing something from them.

George did not approve of his friend's behaviour at times. But he did like to associate with the best of the cadets. He knew that he was not the best, his swordwork was poor and his shooting could do with improvement. George hoped that by staying by Antoine’s side some of his ability might rub off on him. It was vague hope, but it was there for George.

‘We might get to help them with whatever is going on,’ said Antoine after he had eaten a few mouthfuls of stew. ‘We’re already involved and know that Porthos is missing.’

‘Yes,’ agreed George, ‘but that doesn’t mean we should pry into whatever it is. We should just conduct ourselves professionally.’

Antoine rolled his eyes, ‘you are a bit “safe” sometimes,’ he said.

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘We should strive to know more about our fellow soldiers. We need to know if they can be trusted-’

‘Of course, they can be trusted, they’re Musketeers. I would trust them with my life-’

‘I’m not sure about Aramis,’ continued Antoine. ‘He seems weak occasionally. And he was accused of sodomy. They arrested him. He was going to be executed.’

George hated the thought of what the Musketeer had been through. Both he and Antoine had joined as cadets shortly after Aramis’ release. The man was still recovering when they both started their training. The other cadets had told them what had happened. George felt sorry for Aramis. He was not a churchgoer and did not really understand what the issue was. Why was it wrong for someone to enjoy the company of their own sex? Not that Aramis was that way inclined, he could not be, he had been cleared of the charges.

Antoine had been wary of the Musketeer ever since he had heard about the arrest. But George kept his own thoughts to himself not wishing to upset Antoine and potentially lose him as a friend. 

Although, George was starting to wonder if Antoine was really the friend he thought he was.

MMMM

‘I don’t want to include many men in the search,’ said Treville.

Athos nodded his agreement, ‘if this is something to do with the accusations against Aramis we do not want it dragged up again.’

He glanced at Tremblay who had regained his full composure and focus he nodded that he understood what Treville and Athos were saying. 

It was clear the man knew that Aramis was guilty of what he had been accused of, but Tremblay, like the other men in the room, had no issue with it. They also knew that Pierre was the same way inclined and Tremblay had already gone out of his way to protect the younger man from any accusations.

‘We can use Antoine and George, they already know that Porthos is missing and that Aramis was attacked,’ said d’Artagnan who had finally moved away from Aramis’ side. 

Athos looked at d’Artagnan carefully, ‘do you want to help with the search, or would you rather stay here, in case he wakes up again?’

Athos nodded towards Aramis who was showing no signs of regaining consciousness. D’Artagnan looked at Aramis for a few moments. Athos could almost see the conflict going through his friend's mind. He was impressed when d’Artagnan replied.

‘He would want me to help search for Porthos and Pierre,’ he said decisively. ‘Antoine and George can watch him. We’ll give them a list of the places we’re going to search. If something happens one of them can come and find us.’

Athos said, ‘a good plan.’

‘We will have to make sure they know that he can be a little awkward when he is confused. They must not be afraid to be firm with him,’ suggested Athos. ‘He is going to be very worried about Porthos.’

Treville managed a smile at the remark but Athos could tell his Captain was as worried as the rest of them. The sooner they could begin the search the better.

‘I will brief the cadets,’ said the Captain. ‘Athos, could you ensure that we are all well armed, including Tremblay, who I note is missing his weapons.’

Athos was mildly amused to see the look on the Guardsman’s face when he realised he had arrived at a rival garrison unarmed. It showed how much the attack on himself and Pierre had affected him. Unlike most of the other members of the Red Guard, Tremblay and Pierre were personable men who Athos had no issue with.

After a last look at Aramis, Treville left the infirmary. Athos led Tremblay out after him, leaving d’Artagnan with Aramis. Athos suspected his friend would probably appreciate a few minutes alone with Aramis before they left to search for Porthos and Pierre. 

MMMM

D’Artagnan waited for the door to close before he resumed his seat beside his lover. He reached out and took Aramis’ hand in his, he kissed his lovers fingers before leaning forward and brushing the hair from his face. 

Aramis did not react to the closeness of his lover. D’Artagnan sighed, it had been a long shot but one that he had wanted to take ever since Aramis had fallen unconscious after his very brief confused waking moments. 

The bruises across Aramis’ face were looking darker by the minute. The cut to his head was far enough into his hairline that it did not mar his handsome features. His confusion when he had woken was a worry. D’Artagnan could only hope that as he recovered Aramis would not be left with permanent issues after the head injury. 

They had all been badly injured at one time or another, but it did not make it any easier to watch as a friend, or lover, suffered.

If they did not recover Porthos, and Pierre, in one piece, Aramis would be devastated, he would be angry, and he would blame himself. 

‘We’ll find him for you,’ said d’Artagnan quietly.

He glanced out of the infirmary window and saw Antoine stood outside the mess. A few seconds later Treville emerged and indicated for the cadet to follow him. Before they got any closer, d’Artagnan leaned over his lover and kissed him gently on the lips. 

There was no reaction.

MMMM

One of Gagnon’s men pointed his gun at Pierre, who kept up his charade of fear from his place in the corner. Porthos glanced at the young man and wondered if he might have a chance to escape in the next few minutes. If Pierre could get away he could get help, Porthos knew he stood no chance unless Gagnon decided to unchain him. 

‘You really are a pathetic excuse for a Red Guard,’ said Gagnon as he slipped the key in the lock of the door. 

The barred door swung open with only the slightest squeak of the hinges. Gagnon stepped into the cell, he stopped in front of Porthos but continued to talk to Pierre. 

‘I remember, when we were killing that whore on the wheel,’ he said. ‘I saw you...you were crying. You’re supposed to be a soldier. You are supposed to be a competent killer. You should have been pleased that a sinning whore was being put out of his misery.’

Pierre had pulled his legs up and was hugging his knees, not looking at Gagnon. Porthos was impressed with the act, at least he hoped it was still an act. He did not remember Pierre being at the execution of Simon Berger, his attention had been wholly on Aramis at the time. But Athos had told him afterwards that the young Guardsman had been struggling to contain himself as the diabolical scene played out in front of them.

Gagnon took a step forward, ‘then you allowed yourself to be attacked. You allowed a man to fuck you and beat you.’

Pierre finally looked up, he had tears in his eyes, he was visibly shaking. Porthos wondered if being reminded of the rape he had suffered had broken through the act and now Pierre really was in fear.

Gagnon seemed pleased at the reaction he was getting from Pierre.

‘The thing about your rape was that the man who did it, he had been one of my men. The stupid idiot went and got himself corrupted by the whores we interrogated. Their illness spread to him and he could not help himself.’

Porthos could not believe what he was hearing. The serial rapist and murderer Gagnon was talking about had prayed on several men a few months before. The man knew what he was doing he had caught men who were unsuspecting and alone. 

Gagnon turned to Porthos, ‘and you are no better.’

Porthos wondered what Gagnon meant.

‘They were careful with you, weren’t they. Sending you away when Aramis became my guest.’

Porthos began to get an idea of what Gagnon meant.

‘Did he request that you be sent away to protect you? If he had broken he would have named you as his lover.’

Porthos knew he would have no issue denying the accusation, but he did not want to give Gagnon the satisfaction of an answer. 

‘I actually hope I didn’t kill him back there,’ continued Gagnon. ‘I’d like him to wake up and know that his lover has been taken from him.’

Gagnon crouched down in front of Porthos.

‘I want him to know that his lover suffered before he died. You probably want to know why I took you and not him?’

Porthos did not move.

‘I took you because I want him to know what it is like to lose everything. I have a couple of men in my pay who will make you suffer in a way that personally I find disgusting, but you need to suffer in specific ways and he needs to know about it...which he will when he finds your abused body...then I will see to it that he is killed slowly as well.’

A couple of the men who had arrived with Gagnon were watching Porthos carefully from the doorway. One of them licked his lips slowly, with a salacious smile. Porthos looked back at Gagnon. 

‘I have plans in place. I’ve been planning this for a long time. I can’t be stopped. And if it looks like my plan is going awry I have a backup.’

Gagnon looked pleased with himself.

‘What’s he here for?’ asked Porthos with a nod towards Pierre.

‘He is here because he is like you and deserves to die. I know Aramis looked after him, his death will also hurt him.’

‘You’re the one who’s sick,’ spat Porthos who could not hide his anger at the situation any longer. 

Gagnon stood up and nodded toward the two men who were loitering in the doorway. They stepped towards Porthos who managed to scramble up to stand but was unable to move away due to the restraints. Once standing he could not raise his arms as the chains were too short, he could do nothing to protect himself. 

The men worked together, one of them grabbed Porthos and pushed him firmly into the wall. Despite his struggles, Porthos could not get the man off him. The other man worked to undo his breeches, rubbing at his groin as he did so.

Porthos could not help reacting to the unwelcome assault, he pulled away as much as he could but the short chains and the man leaning on him prevented him from doing so. The man touching him was looking him in the eyes as he did so, a wicked smile playing on his lips. Porthos felt helpless, a feeling he had experienced once before in all too similar circumstances. Porthos did not want to be reminded of his previous experience. 

‘That will do for now,’ Gagnon said calmly from behind the men.

With a disappointed look and a final rub of Porthos' groin, the man who had been pulling at the ties on the captive’s underclothes stepped back. Both men retreated from the room. Gagnon stepped up to Porthos who glared at him.

‘I’ll leave you to think about what is to come for a while. I don’t need to be here to see them at work, I just need it done.’

Gagnon stepped over to Pierre who could not hide the real fear any longer. The tears were streaming down his face, Porthos could tell the man was scared.

‘Pathetic,’ Gagnon said quietly to the Guardsman before turning and walking from the room.

The two captives were left alone.

MMMM

‘Captain,’ said George from behind Treville who was about to leave the mess and join his men for the search.

‘What is it George?’ he sighed as he turned back.

The cadet looked a little uneasy.

‘We have a missing man to search for George, what do you want?’

‘It’s Antoine-’

‘What about him?’

‘...I think he’s got some…’

‘What George?’ said Treville who had already lost his patience with the young man.

‘He has some odd ideas about...people.’

‘George,’ said Treville with a finality he hoped the young man would understand, ‘either say what you have to say or don’t. But I have to go now.’

George hesitated again. Treville shook his head and turned to go. George finally found his voice again.

‘He doesn’t trust Aramis.’

Treville turned back, ‘doesn’t trust Aramis with what?’ 

‘He just doesn’t trust him.’

‘Well as Aramis is currently unconscious, I doubt he will cause your friend any problems,’ said Treville with another exasperated sigh. ‘I am going now. Relieve Antoine in a couple of hours and come and find us if anything changes.’

George nodded. Treville wondered what the cadet had meant, but he did not have time to deal with it at that moment. Searching for his missing Musketeer was his priority.

MMMM

As the door thudded shut Porthos looked across to Pierre. The young man wiped his eyes and sniffed a couple of times before pushing himself up to stand. He walked to the door and looked along the corridor before returning to Porthos’ side. 

‘Are you alright?’ Pierre asked.

Porthos nodded slowly. Pierre looked down at Porthos’ undone clothes, he moved to tidy them up before pausing and looking back up at him, Porthos nodded his ascent. Pierre carefully buttoned Porthos’ breeches.

‘When they...touched you...I could tell it’s not the first time that’s happened to you.’

Porthos sighed, ‘no. About a year ago some men took me and d’Artagnan captive, they were sadistic bastards. It was not...easy.’

Pierre rested his hand on Porthos’ shoulder for a few seconds, ‘I understand.’

‘What about you?’

Pierre looked away for a few seconds.

‘It hurts to be reminded of what happened, but it’s not as bad as it was.’

‘Use the fear,’ said Porthos.

Pierre looked confused. 

‘Use the fear, turn it into energy, aggression, whatever you need. We need to work out a strategy to escape.’

Pierre steadied Porthos as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor again. He sat next to the Musketeer and sighed. 

‘We know they’re going to come back,’ said Pierre, ‘we need to get them to unchain you. I can’t take them on alone…’

‘I’m sure you’d try though,’ said Porthos with a grin.

‘Yes I would,’ replied Pierre.

‘I’m guessing Gagnon will have the keys to these,’ Porthos pulled at the manacles, ‘if he comes in to taunt us again...which he probably will, you should try to subdue him.’

Pierre nodded, ‘we have limited options don’t we?’

‘We’ll work with what we’ve got.’

They were silent for a few seconds, Porthos looked off into the distance worried about Aramis. He looked back at Pierre who was looking thoughtfully off into the distance as well.

The Guardsman realised he was being watched he smiled briefly, ‘I was thinking about my friend Remy...I was supposed to meet him tonight.’

Porthos could tell from the way Pierre spoke that Remy was more than a friend. It felt good to talk about other things for a few seconds, thought Porthos.

‘I’m sure he won’t remonstrate with you once you explain what happened...it’s not like he hasn’t had his own adventures, is it?’

Pierre smiled, ‘yeah, he told me about his brush with the slave trade and how d’Artagnan helped free him.’

Porthos pretended to be annoyed for a second, ‘d’Artagnan did not do that on his own you know.’

Pierre laughed, an odd sound in the dank cell, but Porthos enjoyed it nonetheless.

‘I know all about what you and Aramis did to free them all. But Remy is a little enamoured with d’Artagnan so he always plays a bigger part in the retelling.’

‘Jealous?’ asked Porthos.

Pierre grinned, ‘I don’t think Remy will be able to steal d’Artagnan away from Aramis. He’ll have to settle for me.’

Porthos smiled for a few seconds before the reality of their situation clouded the thoughts. He and Pierre were at serious risk of harm and Aramis might be dead. Their situation was bleak, the levity had been welcome but it did not banish the problems they faced. He could only hope that Pierre was up for the task of tackling Gagnon if they were lucky enough to find themselves alone with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remy Gosse first appeared in ‘Infiltration’, he has also appeared in ‘Vengeance’, but this story references ‘No Strangers Here’.


	4. Chapter 4

Treville led the way with Athos a step behind. Tremblay followed, wearing the borrowed weapons. D’Artagnan, who was bringing up the rear of the little group wondered if the Red Guard medic would find himself in trouble for working with the Musketeers. The man had come to them for help when his own captain had dismissed him. D’Artagnan did not regret his decision to join the Musketeers over the Red Guard. The Guard were good fighters but they lacked discipline and were far too heavy-handed.

There had been run-ins before between them and the Guard. More than once one of them had been injured by the Cardinal’s soldiers. Aramis had been on the receiving end at least twice that d’Artagnan could remember. 

He thought back to his lover lying injured in the infirmary. He had hated to leave him but knew that Aramis would have wanted him to help search for their friend. Aramis and Porthos had a relationship that d’Artagnan was sure could never be broken. If Aramis was conscious he would want to be searching for Porthos. D’Artagnan was sure that when he did come around the two cadets would have their work cut out keeping him in one place. Obviously, there was also the worry that when Aramis came around he might have suffered memory loss and not remember what had happened. 

They worked their way to the first address. From the outside it looked abandoned, but they knew from experience that appearances could be deceptive. Treville stepped up to the door and pushed it, when it did not open he nodded to Tremblay who joined him on the step, both men put their shoulders to the door forcing it open. With a creak of rotten wood, the door swung open, bouncing off a wall before staying put. Treville stepped into the building, an old shop, and looked around. Athos followed him in and headed for the next room. 

Tremblay looked at the wooden steps that led to an upper floor. He glanced back at d’Artagnan who nodded. They slowly ascended. The steps creaked ominously a few times but held their weight. At the top, they were presented with two rooms. The doors to both stood open. A few old pieces of furniture were all that remained of the previous occupants.

‘I know some of his men used this place occasionally, I think they brought whores here.’

D’Artagnan looked at the bed in one of the rooms, a couple of threadbare blankets all that remained of any amorous activity that had occurred. 

‘I’m surprised the women were prepared to use that,’ he said with a grim smile, ‘it looks like it will collapse at any moment.

Tremblay nodded before returning to the small landing. They retraced their steps and met Athos and Treville in what would have been the shop.

‘Nothing,’ said Athos with a shake of his head.

‘Let’s get onto the next address,’ said Treville.

The men filed out of the building to continue their search. D’Artagnan hoped for better luck at the next place. The longer Porthos and Pierre were held captive the more chance something untoward would happen to them. 

MMMM

The door at the end of the corridor opened. They could hear people walking towards their cell. Porthos was filled with trepidation, he prayed that between them they could stop any attack on them both. But he was restrained and Pierre was pragmatic in his honesty that he would not be able to take on many of the former interrogators alone. 

Porthos felt a fear rise in him as he saw the two men who had been allowed to touch him appear at the barred door. They were younger than him, but both capable looking men. One was aiming a gun at Pierre who had risen to stand with Porthos. 

‘Move away from him, or you will get the same treatment.’

The man with the gun looked at Pierre with hungry eyes. He very obviously looked the younger man up and down, taking in the lithe figure. Pierre did as he was told and moved off to the corner, he glanced at Porthos, regret in his eyes.

‘Turn around, we wouldn’t want you to spoil what might happen to you later.’

Pierre turned around, keeping his hands out to his sides as he did so.

The door was pushed open and the two men advanced towards Porthos. The man with the gun continued to point it at Pierre’s back.

‘I suspect you would like to spare Pierre any unpleasantness. If you don’t fight back and just accept what is going to happen, we will leave him alone.’

Porthos glanced at Pierre, noting that the Guardsman was shaking slightly. Porthos was not sure if Pierre was pretending or not.

The man without a gun stepped towards him, looking down at his breeches.

‘That was kind of your friend...did he just button you back up or did he take advantage of you being tied up as well?’

Porthos glowered at the men before speaking.

‘I need to talk to Gagnon,’ he said.

The man whose hands were on Porthos’ breeches looked up at him.

‘For what reason? This is going to happen. We are both going to fuck you, hard, and then you are going to be killed. Nothing will change that.’

‘I have information that he might want...about the Cardinal...incriminating information.’

The man had started to undo the breeches, he did not stop as he replied.

‘Are you hoping to get a lesser sentence?’

‘Surely Gagnon would like to see the Cardinal’s downfall?’

The man paused, his fingers on the ties of Porthos’ underclothes. Porthos was desperately trying not to show how fearful he was. To show the men fear would mean they had already won.

The man turned to the other, ‘go and get Gagnon?’

The man with the gun contemplated the instruction for a moment, ‘why me? We ain’t even decided who gets to fuck him first. Is this your way of getting him first?’

The man in front of Porthos rolled his eyes before replying, maintaining eye contact with Porthos as he did.

‘If you think I’ll be able to fuck this one on my own you clearly haven’t seen him in action. He is really quite formidable.’

The man smirked as he spoke, rubbing his hand over Porthos’ groin. Porthos stoically refused to react.

‘It will need both of us, one of us will probably have to hold him down. I know he’ll want to protect young Pierre, but the fear will get to him and he will buck and struggle. He will be a rough fuck.’

The man closed his hand around Porthos’ cock and squeezed. Porthos could not help a gasp at the assault.

The other man huffed out a laugh, ‘I suppose you’re right. In that case, we’ll both go...just to be sure.’

The man touching Porthos thought for a moment, ‘agreed.’

He stepped away, Porthos could not help wilting slightly as the assault was ended. The men retreated from the room and disappeared along the corridor. Before the door was shut Porthos was aware of Pierre in front of him one hand on his shoulder steadying him, the other gathering his breeches together again.

‘Well done,’ he said, ‘we just need Gagnon on his own now.’

‘Let’s hope it’s that easy,’ said Porthos with a shaky sigh.

As he watched the nimble-fingered Guardsman doing his button’s up for the second time he realised that their predicament was dire. They had a weak plan and for all he knew no help was coming to them.

If Aramis was dead there was a high possibility that no one would even know he was missing.

MMMM

‘It’s a shame you didn’t die. If you had died, I could probably have stayed here longer. I could have continued to spy on Treville and his men. Could have continued to enjoy all the good food and accommodation. The bed I have here is the best I think I’ve ever slept in. I also have an adoring fan, stupid fool...although he does seem to be working out that I’m not quite what I seem.’

Antoine paused, he leaned back in the chair he had pulled up next to the unconscious Musketeer. 

‘If he does work out that I’ve infiltrated, that I don’t really belong...I’ll have to kill him...I would regret that. I wouldn’t regret anything else though.’

He reached forward and shoved Aramis’ arm. There was no response. 

‘Now that I’ve got to go, I would like you to be awake first. You do deserve to see who it was that got your lover taken away...you should have been more careful. He’s too obvious around you. When you got all pathetic at the Palace the other week, he was all over you. And taking you off into the trees. What were you doing? Was he kissing you...to calm you down?’

Antoine pulled a face. The thought of the two Musketeers together disgusted him. Two men being together in an intimate manner was a sin. 

‘You were arrested, he was sent away. How can no one see that you and he are fucking? I don’t really understand how it was missed. And then you killed a Bishop.’

Antoine shook his head.

‘You both think I didn’t recognise him, but I did. And I saw you push him to the ground. You murdered him. You’re a killer. Had he worked out that you really are a sodomite? Did you need to protect yourself and him?’

He leaned forward again and shook Aramis with more force. This time the injured man stirred slightly. Antoine smiled slightly.

‘Good. Wake up. Wake up and see the man who is going to see justice done. My father may not have managed to have you executed when you were in his care but I will make up for that. He will be proud of me.’

MMMM

As the door to the cell was pushed open, Pierre retreated to the corner again.

‘This had better be good, monsieur,’ said Gagnon with a sigh.

The objectionable man was alone. He stepped into the room, he looked at Pierre for a few seconds. Porthos wondered if the man was deciding if Pierre was a threat or not. Gagnon appeared to decide that Pierre was not a threat. Porthos hoped that was a mistake.

‘I want to make a deal,’ said Porthos.

All Porthos really needed to do was get Gagnon to pay attention to him. Pierre was keeping very still, waiting for Gagnon to stop looking at him. 

Gagnon refocused on Porthos.

‘You are hardly in a position to make a deal, are you. Your lover is dead, why would you want to live?’

Did Gagnon know that Aramis had been killed? Porthos had to hide his worry, he pushed it away to bubble under the surface. 

‘Aramis ain’t my lover. He’s my best friend, but he ain’t my lover.’

Gagnon paused for a second.

‘You’re lying. I have a source that has seen the two of you together.’

‘Your source is wrong.’

Gagnon stared at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Porthos saw Pierre ready himself to make his move. Like a coiled spring, the Red Guardsman leapt forward. Gagnon saw him move, but was too slow to prevent Pierre from knocking bodily into him. Gagnon was a big man, it would take a lot of effort for Pierre to get him on the floor on his own. But Pierre had a little help from Porthos who simply put his foot out and tripped the man. The momentum taking both him and Pierre to the ground. 

Gagnon smacked his head on the stone floor, leaving him stunned. Pierre was quick, he found the keys on the man’s belt and rushed to unhook them. Porthos had crouched down watching Gagnon, who was blinking.

‘Quickly,’ said Porthos.

Pierre managed to disentangle the keys and passed them to Porthos. Gagnon had managed to gather his wits. He reached up and tried to push Pierre off him. Pierre managed to knock the man’s hands away once but not a second time. The bigger, heavier, man used his bulk to force Pierre back. The young man was soon trapped underneath the former interrogator who had managed to straddle him leaving him with no easy escape. 

Porthos fumbled with the keys, resorting to using his teeth to hold them as he tried the three most likely to fit the manacles. After two failures he finally felt the lock click open. He made short work of the second lock. 

The few seconds he had not been watching Pierre and Gagnon meant he had missed the odious man putting his hands around his victim’s throat. Pierre was desperately scrabbling at Gagnon’s hands and fingers, and his face in turn. Gagnon was determined. As Porthos managed to scramble up Gagnon changed his tactic and pulled the unfortunate Pierre up by the neck before smashing him back to the floor. 

As Gagnon pulled Pierre up a second time he was stopped by a well-aimed punch to the side of his head. Gagnon release Pierre who fell back limply. Porthos had no time to check on the Guardsman. Gagnon had changed his focus to Porthos.

MMMM

George looked at the infirmary door. He thought back to his conversation with the Captain. He knew the Captain had other things to worry about, it was understandable that he had been a bit dismissive when he had tried to talk about Antoine. 

Perhaps he was reading too much into the situation. Antoine did have some quite strict beliefs, but they were what the Church taught. Just because he did not agree with them did not mean that he was right and Antoine was wrong.

And Antoine was the best cadet. 

George decided he should talk to Antoine. He wanted to make sure there were no issues between them. They could believe different things and still be friends. At least he hoped that was the case. 

He wandered across the yard nodding a hello to a couple of the commissioned men on their way out as he went. He wondered if he would ever gain his commission. He knew he was a bit behind some of the other cadets, but he hoped that he was improving. Aramis had taken him for someone to one shooting practice a couple of times and the Musketeer had told him that it had helped. George believed Aramis. Aramis would not lie to him, he was sure.

As he reached the door to the infirmary he could hear Antoine speaking. George paused outside, he did not want to interrupt a conversation if Aramis was confused. As he listened he realised the conversation was a little one-sided, and the things that Antoine was saying were not pleasant. 

There were a few mumbled responses from Aramis, but Antoine was doing the majority of the talking. As the one-sided conversation continued George realised he would have to intercede on behalf of Aramis. The Musketeer was in danger.

George looked around, there was no one to call for help, the garrison was quiet. George would have to deal with the situation on his own.

MMMM

Athos peered through the dirty window of the second building they were to search. A large old house nestled with several others on a road that had been wealthy but no longer was. Tremblay had suggested the house as one that the Red Guard had used once to interrogate a couple of men. Gagnon had been involved. The unofficial interrogation had needed to be done out of the way of the upper classes and the court. 

Two men were sat at a table, a third was lounging by a fireplace, his legs stretched out in front of him.

‘I think this may be more promising,’ he said as he stepped back from the window to allow Tremblay and Treville to see into the room. 

D’Artagnan who was stood to the side of the door reached across and quietly tried the handle.

‘It’s unlocked,’ he said, ‘shall we pay them a visit?’

Athos nodded as he drew his gun, the others followed suit. D’Artagnan quietly pushed the door open and stepped inside taking light steps. Athos followed and used his gun to indicate the room they should enter first. Two other doors lined the large hallway, both were closed.

Treville stood in front of the door, he took a step back ready to kick the door open.

‘Lethal force gentlemen,’ he said firmly with a glance at them each.

Although taking a man’s life was not the best option. These men were responsible for attacking four soldiers, leaving one badly injured and kidnapping two. They would be sentenced to die if they were arrested. 

Once Treville had received a nod from each man he stepped forward and kicked the door hard. It sprang open. The three men within the room were taken by surprise. They did not have time to reach for their weapons. The men at the table managed to stand, their chairs falling in their haste. The man draped over the cushioned chair by the fire did not get as far as standing. 

The three men were dead within seconds. 

‘Let’s search the house quickly, if there are more men they will know we are here.’

‘The cellar first, there were cells,’ said Tremblay as he led them back to the hallway and across to one of the other doors. 

He pulled the door open. They all paused as they heard an unmistakable shout. They were definitely in the right house and Porthos was making himself known to someone. 

They rushed down the steps finding a heavy wooden door blocking their way. Athos turned the handle and heaved the door open. They spilt into the corridor. An open door a few yards ahead of them became their obvious destination. 

Athos was the first to reach the barred door. Within the cell were three men. Pierre was lying, possibly unconscious, on the stone floor, an obvious wound to the back of his head.

Porthos and Gagnon were embroiled in a fierce battle of wills. The two men were wrestling on the floor. The fight was dirty, Gagnon was already sporting bruises and grazes to his face. Porthos, whose shirt had become ripped, had a gash across his arm. 

With bleeding knuckles, Porthos managed to get the better of his opponent pinning him down and punching him in the face. Gagnon twisted his body, pushing Porthos off him before thumping him in the chest. Slightly winded, Porthos leaned back for a second as Gagnon grabbed at his shirt, the fabric ripping further. 

From somewhere Gagnon pulled a small dagger and slashed at Porthos, the move taking the Musketeer by surprise. Angered, Porthos grabbed the wrist with the dagger and squeezed hard. Gagnon released the dagger as Porthos managed to put his other hand on the former interrogator's throat. Porthos pushed the man into the floor before pulling him up and smashing his head back. 

Athos took the fight in as he rushed into the room, it took him a few seconds to get close enough to the brawling men to grab at his friend and pull him off Gagnon. 

Porthos was tense, breathing hard, but did not resist Athos’ move. D’Artagnan and Treville were quick to grab Gagnon who was trying to push himself back up to stand. Treville pointed his gun at Gagnon’s chest, while d’Artagnan rested his main gauche on the man’s reddening neck.

Porthos had started to try to pull away from Athos who was struggling to hold him back.

‘He killed Aramis…’

‘No, Porthos...he’s alive...he’s injured, but he’s alive.’

Porthos pulled away for a few more seconds before stilling in Athos’ hold, his breathing fast and laboured. 

Gagnon sneered at them, before speaking in a croaky voice, ‘he won’t be alive for long...I told you I had a backup plan.’


	5. Chapter 5

They all looked at Gagnon who smirked for a few seconds before coughing. 

D’Artagnan was trying to work out what the man had meant. He had a backup plan. A backup plan for what? 

Athos had just reassured Porthos that Aramis was not dead and then Gagnon had told them Aramis would not be alive for long. 

Did Gagnon have another plan in place to kill Aramis? They had thought that he just wanted Aramis to suffer a loss, the fact that he had not been killed when he and Porthos were attacked implied that his death was not the ultimate goal.

But perhaps it was?

D’Artagnan was struggling to contain himself. How was Gagnon going to kill Aramis? He was safe back at the garrison being looked after by Antoine and George.

Athos made eye contact with him, he shook his head. Neither man knew what Gagnon meant. Porthos, who was still panting from his recent exertions, looked equally confused. 

It was Tremblay, who had knelt by the still form of Pierre, who broke the silence. 

‘What do you mean?’

Gagnon coughed again but did not reply. D’Artagnan pressed the tip of his parrying dagger into the man’s neck, just enough for Gagnon to feel it. The interrogator looked at him but still did not speak.

Treville knelt by the man and grabbed him around the face, clutching his jaw tightly.

‘What. Do. You. Mean?’

Gagnon did not move, did not respond. 

Thoughts whirled around in d’Artagnan’s head. Something could have been happening to his lover as they tried to get the information out of Gagnon. The man was clearly not going to speak. He stepped back from Gagnon and looked at Treville.

Treville nodded, ‘go,’ he said. 

D’Artagnan did not need telling twice. He rushed from the room and back along the corridor. He climbed the stairs to the hall two steps at a time. Bursting back out onto the streets he ran back towards the garrison as quickly as he could.

MMMM

Aramis had been conscious for a few minutes, at least he guessed it was a few minutes. It had taken him a while to comprehend the words that were being said above him. It had taken him a while to comprehend who was speaking. 

Antoine was talking with a vitriol he had not heard from the usually pious young man. It was known that Antoine had some strong views on a variety of subjects but he had never mentioned his hatred of sinners with such venom before. Antoine clearly took the Churches teachings literally, as did many people. Which was one of the reasons Aramis and d’Artagnan were forced to keep their relationship very discreet. Not everyone approved. 

Aramis was trying to keep still, hoping the young man would go away. His head hurt and he really did not want to spend time denying who he was to the cadet.

But when it had become obvious that Antoine meant to cause him further harm, his own sense of self-preservation kicked in. But coming around completely and focusing on the cadet was proving difficult. He knew he had moved slightly when he was shaken firmly as Antoine had seemed pleased. 

He was roughly shaken a second time. Aramis managed to open his eyes, his vision was still blurred but he could make out Antoine stood over him, clutching a pillow.

‘It’s a shame I can’t make it obvious that you have been executed. I’m just finishing off my father’s work.’

Aramis tried to speak but his throat was dry, he coughed which sent sparks of pain through his body. His head thumped harder.

He knew he was helpless, he could not fight the young man off. As the pillow was pressed down over his face he grabbed at Antoine. The pain the move caused, the thumping, disorientating feeling in his head caused him confusion. He knew he had to stop Antoine, he knew he had to try to push the pillow away from his face but he could not. He could not coordinate his limbs, he had no strength in his arms. 

The pillow smothered his face. He tried to take a breath, but there was no air. He pushed with all his strength but it was not enough. 

He tried to take another breath. 

MMMM

George turned the handle on the door and slowly pushed it open. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

His friend was leaning over Aramis, pressing a pillow into his face. Aramis was weakly struggling against the assault. 

George hesitated, he could not believe what he was seeing. Antoine was trying to kill Aramis. 

George stepped into the room. A floorboard creaked under his foot. Antoine looked around, but did not stop his assault on the injured man. 

‘Go away George. Pretend you didn’t see anything.’

George did not move, still struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. As he watched, Aramis continued to struggle, but his already weak efforts were becoming weaker and slower.

‘Antoine. Stop.’

George found himself walking forward, some urge to help Aramis had awoken within him. He knew what Antoine was doing was wrong. He tried to grab Antoine around the shoulders. The cadet whirled around, shoving George away at the same time. 

He staggered to the side, bumping into the table as he did so. Antoine drew his sword.

‘Don’t make me do this, George, you could still just walk away, pretend you never saw me in here.’

‘But you’re supposed to be watching him…’

‘No one will know he was killed, they’ll just think he succumbed to his injuries.’

A couple of coughs from behind Antoine had the cadet turn back to Aramis.

‘My injuries aren’t that serious,’ he managed to say before coughing again, screwing his eyes shut as he did so. 

‘Antoine, why?’

‘He’s a fucking whore,’ spat Antoine.

The enraged cadet turned back to Aramis who had one hand held above him in a vain attempt to prevent Antoine attacking him. George could tell Aramis stood no chance. He rushed forward and pulled Antoine away a second time. Antoine’s blade sliced across his forearm as he twisted him away. 

George staggered back a few paces looking at the injury, it was the worst he had experienced. His cream coloured shirt was already stained from the blood coming from the wound. 

Antoine was advancing quickly. With little grace, George managed to pull his own sword out and knock the first strike from Antoine away. George was badly positioned, his back was to the table, as he was forced back a few steps he ended up leaning against it. Thinking quickly he pulled his legs up and over the table. 

Antoine slammed the sword downwards, narrowly missing him and catching the edge of the solid table. George quickly moved around the table and managed to get a couple of sword thrusts in of his own, but Antoine was quick, he parried each one with ease. 

The murderous cadet began to push George back again with elegant strikes and feints. George managed to get close a couple of times but Antoine was continually quicker. George crashed into the edge of Aramis’ bed, ending up sprawled over the injured man who had somehow managed to push himself up to sit, the pillow that had been employed as a murder weapon now being used as scant protection for the Musketeer.

Antoine switched his attention to Aramis, he tried to plunge his sword into the unfortunate man. Aramis managed to deflect the blow with the pillow but lost his improvised shield in the process. Antoine’s second attempt to spear Aramis was thwarted by George who had managed to gather his wits. His downward stroke saw Antoine’s blade make harmless contact with the bed rather than its occupant. 

George hurled himself forward, smashing into Antoine and sending him back a few paces. But the cadet rallied himself quickly to go on the offensive once more. This time George was ready. He stepped into thrusts and pushed them aside, he jumped over low swings of the sword and ducked under high strikes. 

Antoine fell onto the next bed, flat on his back, but he was quick to get a foot up and push George back. George crashed to the floor in front of Aramis’ bed. The Musketeer grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied him as he struggled to his feet only to be met by Antoine’s attack again. 

George felt the sword slice through his shirt and the skin on his side as a lucky strike landed. He was tiring, his breaths were coming in panted gasps. But he persevered. 

‘Give up,’ shouted Antoine as he stepped into another thrust.

But George could not give up, he knew he was at a point where he was not only protecting Aramis but himself as well. Antoine could not let him live after what he had tried to do. 

Antoine had tried to murder someone. If he was going to get away there could be no witnesses. George knew he was fighting for his life. 

Pressing forward again George hoped to knock his former friend into the bed a second time. But Antoine saw through his tactic and carefully moved around the bed. George followed.

Antoine managed to get another hit in, slicing deeply across George’s hip. George could not help a cry of pain, his leg giving way for a few seconds. He had to grab the back of a chair for support. 

Antoine smirked before coming forward again with a slicing movement, meant to hit George across the chest and neck. 

George used his last ounces of strength and beat Antoine to it. He sliced deeply, firmly and decisively. Cutting from Antoine’s side, across his chest and into his neck, deep enough to cause blood to pump freely and quickly from the cadet’s body.

Antoine stopped, his fast breathing the only movement he made for a few seconds. He stared at George, a look of stunned shock on his face. Blood poured from the wound on his neck. It dripped to the floor. Antoine followed the blood, sinking to his knees, staring at George the entire time. 

The sword clattered to the ground. Antoine’s eyes seemed to grow dull as his breaths became irregular. He flopped to the floor, lying in his own pool of blood. After a few more seconds his breaths became fewer, until they stopped. 

George stared at the body of his friend, his sword held limply in his hand, his own blood dripping over the handle and down the blade to spatter on the floor. 

He was still staring at the body when the infirmary door burst open.

MMMM

Porthos had been ready to tear Gagnon apart. The man wanted the last laugh. He had refused to speak to any of them. Treville had nodded to d’Artagnan to go back to the garrison. The young Musketeer had taken off like a hare, rushing back out of the house. Porthos wanted to go with him, but knew he was in no state to keep up.

Athos released his hold on his friend and helped him to stand up, Porthos was grateful for the assistance.

Gagnon continued to smirk at them. Treville continued to apply pressure, digging his gun into the man’s chest. 

‘I have nothing to lose, Treville,’ he said. ‘I’m responsible for an attack on two of the King’s Musketeers and two of the Cardinals Red Guard. Do you think I’m going anywhere other than the gallows?’

Treville shook his head. He paused for a moment before drawing his arm back and punching the man hard across the face, leaving him unconscious.

‘Are you alright?’ asked Treville, turning to Porthos.

‘Yes sir,’ Porthos replied. ‘Is Aramis?’

‘What I said was true,’ said Athos. ‘He came around briefly...but what is happening now…’

‘Go back to the garrison,’ said Treville, ‘Tremblay and I will see to that.’

Treville pointed at Gagnon. Porthos looked at Tremblay and nodded his thanks before his eyes settled on Pierre.

‘He’s unconscious,’ said Tremblay in answer to the obvious question. ‘His breathing is fine, it’s just the bump to the head.’

Porthos nodded, ‘we’d have both been killed if he hadn’t managed to get me free. He’s a brave man.’

Tremblay nodded.

Athos was at the door waiting for him, Porthos turned back to look at the unconscious form of Gagnon on the floor. 

‘Don’t be too gentle with him...will you?’

Treville did not respond.

MMMM

D’Artagnan tore across the garrison yard, he yanked open the infirmary door and stopped, stunned. 

Antoine was lying in a pool of his own blood a few feet in front of him. George was stood, breathing hard in front of the dead cadet. George was covered with blood from several wounds. He was starting at Antoine, his face pale.

D’Artagnan looked across to where Aramis still lay on his bed. His lover was also pale but seemed alert, his blankets were twisted and had half slipped from the bed. But he was alive.

Aramis pointed at George.

The cadet was swaying, as his knees began to buckle d’Artagnan stepped up to him and grabbed him. George tried to push away for a few seconds before he wilted in d’Artagnan’s arms. The Musketeer guided the unconscious cadet to the nearest bed and lay him down. 

‘It was Antoine,’ said Aramis quietly.

D’Artagnan turned to his lover who shook his head.

‘I’ll still be here after you’ve sorted him out.’

D’Artagnan knew Aramis was right. Much as he wanted to envelop his lover in an embrace, he knew that George was badly injured and needed tending to first. 

‘Just lie back down then, so I’m not worrying about you.’

Aramis did as he was told but continued to watch for a few seconds before trying to sit up again.

‘Porthos?’ he said with urgency.

‘He’s fine. Lie down and I will tell you what happened. I can’t concentrate on George if you’re falling out of bed over there,’ said d’Artagnan. ‘Porthos has been knocked about a bit, but it’s nothing more than he’d get in a brawl at the tavern.’

Apparently placated Aramis lay back again, content to watch d’Artagnan work. 

‘How is your head?’ asked d’Artagnan as he wrapped temporary bandages around the wounds George had sustained.

When Aramis did not reply d’Artagnan looked back and saw that his lover had either passed out or fallen asleep. D’Artagnan decided it was probably for the best. 

He looked at the body on the floor for a few seconds wondering what had happened, the infirmary was in general disarray with furniture out of place and smaller items knocked to the floor. The two cadets must have had an arduous fight. George was no match for Antoine under normal circumstances. Had it taken a threat to another to push the young man to fight with skill and determination? From Aramis’ reaction and the state he was in, d’Artagnan guessed Antoine had threatened him in some way before George fought the cadet off. 

Antoine and George were friends. D’Artagnan hated to imagine what had been going through the unconscious cadet's mind as he fought for his and Aramis’ lives. 

‘No, Antoine…’

George tried to sit up, d’Artagnan pushed him back firmly.

‘George. George, you’re safe. He’s gone. Calm down.’

George was breathing fast but managed to look at d’Artagnan for a few seconds before grimacing. 

‘I know,’ said d’Artagnan sympathetically. ‘You’re going to need quite a few stitches. I’m sorry. And with that injury to your hip, you won’t be moving very far for a few days either.’

George looked across to Aramis.

‘He’s alright. He’s just passed out. He was talking a bit just now.’

‘Antoine was trying to kill him. He was smothering him.’

D’Artagnan glanced at the body again, ‘I think he was a spy. You weren’t here when Aramis was arrested were you?’

George shook his head. 

‘The man who interrogated him, Gagnon, it was him who attacked Aramis and Porthos earlier. I’m guessing that Antoine was working for him-’

‘I think he was his son.’

D’Artagnan stared at George.

‘Just before I came in, he was talking to Aramis. Taunting him. He said something about his father being proud.’

D’Artagnan let out a sigh, ‘Gagnon said that he had a backup plan. Antoine must have been it. This has been planned for months.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said George.

‘Why? What have you done wrong? You saved Aramis.’

‘I should have made Captain Treville listen earlier. I tried to tell him I thought Antoine was acting a bit strange-’

‘I think the Captain probably had other things on his mind at the time. And you have more than redeemed yourself.’

George nodded.

‘Now, let’s get you cleaned up. I’m afraid you will have to make do with my stitching. But they’ve told me I’m almost as good as Aramis.’

George managed a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Athos had found Porthos’ doublet as they made their way out of the house, he had handed it to the Musketeer who pulled it on, not bothering to hide the wince the action caused. 

‘How badly are you injured?’ asked Athos as they walked briskly back to the garrison. 

The fact that Porthos had not broken into a run told Athos that his friend was not fully fit. 

‘Bruises mainly, a few cuts, nothin’ serious,’ came the distracted reply. 

‘What happened in there?’

Porthos did not reply for a few seconds. Athos watched him skirt around a couple of little old ladies who were dawdling along the road.

‘Porthos?’

When Porthos looked at him Athos could see a haunted look.

‘Let’s just say it was not pleasant.’

Athos wondered what Gagnon and his men had done to their captives. Athos would try to get more details from his friend but knew that it was not the time as they worked their way towards the garrison. They were both worried about Aramis and wondering what d’Artagnan had found.

Walking across the garrison yard they saw activity by the infirmary. They reached the door as a body, covered in a bloody blanket, was being brought out by two rather sombre looking cadets. Athos had to grab Porthos who faltered at the sight. The cadets looked up. 

Simon, a young, but burly man, realised what had caused the normally jovial Musketeer to react in such a way.

‘It’s Antoine, Messieurs,’ he said quietly. ‘D’Artagnan is in there with Aramis and George. We don’t know what happened.’

Athos nodded and pushed Porthos towards the infirmary.

The first thing they noticed was the blood-stained floor and the furniture out of place. 

Aramis was conscious and sitting up watching them. D’Artagnan was busy at another bed stitching up several nasty looking wounds that George had suffered. The cadet was unconscious and very pale. 

The two Musketeers were not sure where to look or what to ask. D’Artagnan paused in his work and crossed the room to them.

‘In short,’ he began, ‘Antoine, who we are fairly sure is Gagnon’s son, tried to smother Aramis. George caught him in the act. They fought. George won. But it was not an easy win. He’s going to be in here for some days.’

Aramis said quietly, ‘he’s lucky d’Artagnan got here when he did, some of the wounds are deep. That’s not all Antoine’s blood.’

Aramis pointed at the dark red stains on the floor.

Porthos moved across to Aramis, looking at him with concern.

‘I will be fine,’ said Aramis. ‘You don’t look particularly healthy though.’

‘I’ll live,’ replied the Musketeer as he sat on the edge of Aramis’ bed for a few seconds before roughly grabbing his friend in a firm embrace.

Athos watched the reunion, realising they had come close to losing two of their number in a very short space of time. He hoped they would all recover from the events that had been set in motion months before by an angry man who felt slighted and bettered. Gagnon had a lot to answer for. Hanging would be too good for the man. 

MMMM

Two days later Aramis sat beside George’s bed. The young cadet had woken several times. The first couple of times he had been confused and unfocused. The loss of blood had left him weak. 

Aramis thought back over the last couple of days. After d’Artagnan had finished dealing with the cadet’s wounds they had tidied up the infirmary under Aramis’ careful gaze. Porthos had wavered after a while and had to be made to lie down. The Musketeer’s ordeal had caught up with him. Aramis had taken great delight in berating him for not dealing with his own injuries at the first opportunity. 

They had all sobered when Treville returned. He explained that Gagnon had been taken to the Chatelet by a group of Red Guardsmen who, unlike their Captain, were not best pleased that the man had been responsible for an attack on two of their number. 

Pierre had come around shortly afterwards and been helped back to his garrison. Treville had spoken to Paquet, explaining that Pierre had been responsible for Gagnon’s capture. The Red Guard Captain had looked at Pierre with fresh eyes.

Aramis’ head injury had left him tired and in pain for a while, he had slept for several hours waking to find Porthos sat by his bed. D’Artagnan had been banished to sit with George. 

When Porthos had been forced to rest d’Artagnan had returned to his side. With both the other occupants of the room asleep or unconscious Aramis had not prevented d’Artagnan from taking his hand. Aramis had spent some time explaining what had happened between George and Antoine. He then listened to d’Artagnan’s take on the events. 

They wondered together what had happened to Porthos and Pierre that Porthos was not saying. They had their suspicions and decided that when the time felt right one of them would remind Porthos that if he needed to talk he could do. They would listen without judging him. 

Now, two days after the incident, Aramis had decided that d’Artagnan needed a break from the infirmary. He had sent him off to the mess with instructions not to return for at least an hour and only after he had been well fed.

George stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He focused on Aramis who smiled at him.

‘Do you want to sit up?’

George nodded slowly. With a few hisses of pain from the injured man, Aramis managed to get him into a sitting position, before pushing a cup of water into his hands. George dutifully drank the water, he looked across at the stained floor. Two cadets had spent the best part of an hour scrubbing the floor the day before but the stain was still visible.

‘I killed him…’

‘You had to George. It was him or both of us. He would have killed you and then killed me, I couldn’t defend myself at the time. You mustn’t feel guilty about it.’

George looked at him, tears in his eyes. 

‘Will I be in trouble, for killing him?’

Aramis could not help an amused smile, ‘no George. You will not be in trouble.’

‘He was my friend...at least...I thought he was my friend.’

‘I think he was your friend, but he wouldn’t have been able to stay your friend. I think he was destined to attack me at some point. I think that was their plan all along. If Gagnon did not kill me, Antoine was going to finish the job. But up to that point you were there for him.’

George looked away, Aramis could see he was thinking hard about something. 

‘I’m not cut out to be a soldier…’

Aramis did not know what to say to the young man. He had been forced to kill a man he thought was his friend and been badly injured in the process. Aramis had some idea what that was like. To have someone you trust turn against you and use you was not pleasant. It led to many mixed emotions. 

He wondered if there was something he could do for George. An idea occurred to him, but he knew it was too soon with all that had happened so fresh in their minds. 

MMMM

D’Artagnan was surprised when Porthos sought him out. The Musketeer had not taken long to sufficiently recover from his injuries to return to full duty. He wandered over to d’Artagnan who was rubbing down his horse, Aramis’ mare stood waiting for the same treatment. His lover had gone to the infirmary to check on George.

‘Good to see him back at work,’ remarked Porthos as he allowed the mare to nuzzle his hand.

‘He’s fine,’ said d’Artagnan, ‘better than I thought he would be. He’s more angry that it all happened. That it had been planned for months.’

‘I think we’re all annoyed that we had a spy in our midst and none of us noticed,’ said Porthos with a sigh.

‘Antoine was a good cadet, he was progressing well. If he was not exemplary we might have taken more notice of him...perhaps he befriended George deliberately. Most of the time we were focused on how poor George was compared to him.’

Porthos was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.

‘I don’t want Aramis to know, but I was assaulted when I was being held.’

D’Artagnan paused in his work, ‘we guessed something had happened.’

‘It was the same as before-’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘They were going to...assault me further...then kill us both, to get at him.’

D’Artagnan watched Porthos for a few seconds. He saw regret in his friend's eyes.

‘They were all quite convinced it’s me that he sleeps with, not you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said d’Artagnan again.

‘Why? For a fleeting second it amused me to see the confusion on the bastards face when I told him I’ve never slept with Aramis.’

Porthos managed a wry smile at the memory. 

‘You know you don’t have to protect me from everything,’ came a voice from behind them.

Porthos screwed his eyes shut for a few seconds before turning to Aramis.

‘You’d never make a discreet lover, Porthos,’ he continued with a genuine smile.

‘How long have you been there?’ asked Porthos.

‘Long enough. I’m sorry you were caught up in this. But I am not sorry to have you as my friend,’ said Aramis.

He grabbed Porthos in a hug for a few seconds before pushing him away.

‘Now, we have a hanging to attend,’ continued Aramis.

‘Are you sure you want to go?’ asked d’Artagnan taking a step towards his lover.

Aramis nodded with determination.

MMMM

A fair crowd had gathered. The theatrics of a hanging always drew a crowd. Aramis hated it. His thoughts were clouded by the thought of the hanging a few months before, one that he had not been able to attend. His fellow Musketeer; Marc Bardet. The man had sacrificed himself to save Aramis.

Gagnon had been complicit in that horrendous event as well. Bardet had been lucky to avoid the same interrogation that Aramis had suffered, a reward for handing himself in and confessing to his sins. An abhorrent reward, thought Aramis. 

And now, the man who had caused so much grief was about to be put to death. Treville had visited Gagnon at the Chatelet to inform him of Antoine’s death. Gagnon had tried not to react, but Treville reported that the man had looked shocked. His final plan had failed and had cost him his son's life. Gagnon really did not have anything else to live for. 

The four of them found themselves a spot at the back of the crowd of people as the condemned man was brought towards the gallows. 

Aramis was stood between d’Artagnan and Porthos. D’Artagnan had suggested several times that he did not need to see the hanging. Aramis had eventually told his lover that he wanted to see the man die. He wanted to know that the man who had caused him so much pain was gone and could not cause him problems any further. 

Gagnon, who was still wearing the clothes he had on when he was arrested, was pushed to stand by the noose. He looked over the crowd of people. The crowd jeered at him, he did not react. He found the Musketeers. Aramis stared back at the man, the man no longer brought fear to his mind. The thought of what he had done to him and no doubt other innocent people made Aramis repulsed. 

Gagnon glared at Aramis for a few seconds as the noose was slipped over his head. A priest began to prey at the condemned man’s side. The disgraced interrogator ignored the man of God but continued to glare at Aramis with occasional glances at Porthos. Aramis thought he could detect a knowing look on the man’s face. 

Aramis glanced around. No one was paying them any attention. All eyes were firmly on the man about to hang. Aramis allowed a small smile to play on his lips. He nodded to Gagnon before slipping his arm over d’Artagnan’s shoulders and pulling the young man closer to him. D’Artagnan was a little surprised at the move but quickly realised what his lover was doing. 

Gagnon’s eyes widened in shock. Aramis could almost see the thoughts forming in the man’s mind. See the pieces fall into place. Gagnon opened his mouth to speak…

Whatever he was going to say was lost. The hanged man could not form words any longer. 

Aramis released d’Artagnan who straightened up before any of the assembled crowd turned around to leave. The show was over.

Gagnon was dead.

MMMM

As they walked back to the garrison, d’Artagnan caught Aramis’ arm to slow him slightly. They allowed Porthos and Athos to get ahead a little so that they could have a quiet conversation.

‘Are you alright?’

D’Artagnan watched Aramis smile before slinging his arm around his shoulders, much as he had at the hanging. His lover nodded. 

‘He may not have been the true cause of my arrest,’ said Aramis, ‘but he was certainly the thing I had the most nightmares about.’

D’Artagnan did not like to recall the countless nights that his lover had woken from some dream in confusion, pushing him away thinking d’Artagnan was doing him harm. The dreams had not been as frequent in the last couple of months but they did still occur. The man they had just seen hanged had been responsible for inflicting hours of pain on Aramis leaving him unable to walk and with a need for several weeks of slow, painful, recovery. The man had also left Aramis suffering with bouts of depression as he recovered. D’Artagnan and their friends had found that they had to leave Aramis to work his own way through the melancholy. But it had not been easy to watch the usually vibrant man staring off into the distance and not interacting with anyone for hours at a time. 

‘I’ll never truly get away from it,’ continued Aramis as they walked, ‘but that went a long way towards it.’

‘Is it wrong to celebrate someone’s death?’ asked d’Artagnan.

Aramis removed his arm from d’Artagnan’s shoulder and straightened his doublet, before responding. 

‘No. It should not be celebrated. But I shall not be mourning his passing either.’

D’Artagnan nodded. 

‘Now,’ said Aramis decisively as he quickened his pace to catch up with their friends. ‘We have something far more pleasant to deal with.’

MMMM

Porthos watched with a smile as a rather confused George was helped out of the infirmary. Aramis eased the young man onto the bench by the table. Poor George was in quite a lot of pain, but did seem to be enjoying being outside for the first time in several days. Once the cadet had calmed his breathing he looked around. He was surprised to see so many people gathered in the yard.

Treville who was stood on the steps indicated for the men to pay attention. The Musketeers and cadets all looked towards their Captain. George was about to stand to attention but Treville gave him a warning look. Porthos chuckled as Aramis put his hand on the young man’s shoulder to keep him in place. 

‘As you know, we were unfortunate to have had a spy in our midst for several months,’ said Treville. 

He paused as the general murmur of annoyance subsided. All the men of the garrison had been taken in by Antoine, all the men were angry that it had happened. 

‘The spy had been passing information about our work to others.’

Porthos knew that Antoine had only been passing on information about Aramis and himself. But the rest of the garrison did not need to know that, as far as the rest of the men were concerned Antoine was a spy for an unknown master.

‘The spy organised an attack on two of your number which resulted in one man being left for dead and one taken captive.’

Again Treville waited for the murmur to die down. Attacks on soldiers were always cause for annoyance. 

‘As some of us were in the process of searching for Porthos, the spy took advantage of our trust and tried to kill Aramis, who was in no position to defend himself.’

Porthos saw Aramis look down for a few seconds as he composed himself. 

‘But Aramis did not need to defend himself. George did that for him.’

A more positive murmur erupted. The men had heard about the fight, when Aramis had left the infirmary a couple of days later he had told a rather excitable group of cadets what had happened. Porthos suspected there were a couple of embellishments to the fight as Aramis was not really in a position to remember every detail himself at the time, and it was unlikely Aramis would play down the part George played. 

‘George,’ Treville continued, descending the last couple of steps and approaching the beet red cadet, ‘for your exemplary behaviour in spotting that we had a spy and for foiling his work…’

Treville paused and looked up at the gathered men.

‘...that’s the official reason…’

He looked back at George who still had not worked out what was going on.

‘...but really, for saving the life of a fellow Musketeer…’

George’s eyes widened as d’Artagnan stepped forward with a new pauldron, handing it to the Captain.

‘...on behalf of the King, I am commissioning you to the Musketeers.’

George blinked a few times before he lost the battle and tears fell from his eyes. For the first time in several days, he smiled. A broad grin which lit up his face. Porthos could not help smiling as well. He noticed that all the men in the garrison yard were nodding their approval. The cadets were in awe, the Musketeer’s looked proud. 

Between them, Treville and Aramis strapped the pauldron to George’s doublet. Porthos wondered how much persuasion it had taken from Aramis to get George to put the doublet on, his wound’s would have been jostled in the process. 

George looked at the pauldron for a few seconds before looking up at Treville. Porthos could not hear him say it but the words ‘thank you’ formed on the young man’s lips. 

Treville leaned forward and said something quietly to the new Musketeer. George nodded and wiped away the tears from his eyes. Treville looked towards Aramis.

‘Now, get him back to the infirmary, he’s still off duty.’

As Aramis helped George to stand, Treville looked across his assembled men before speaking again.

‘Back to work with you all. I’m sure in a few days time when your brother is fit you can take him out and see to it that he celebrates properly.’

The men cheered. As they walked back to the infirmary, Porthos was amused to see Aramis glare at a couple of men who had been about to slap the still injured man on the back.

MMMM

‘Did you spot Pierre and Remy slipping off together?’ said d’Artagnan with a yawn.

Aramis nodded as he sipped his glass of wine.

They were lying entangled on Aramis’ couch, the fire was lit but not really necessary. The May evening was not particularly cold, but if, as Aramis wanted, they were to be taking each other's clothes off, he did not want to be distracted by a cool temperature. 

‘I’m pleased your little admirer has got himself his own soldier to play with,’ said Aramis without bothering to hide a smirk.

They had spent a few hours at a neutral tavern. The Musketeers and Red Guard had enjoyed a brief respite in hostilities to celebrate the safe return of their captured men, the despatch of Gagnon and, for the Musketeers at least, the return to duty of their newest commissioned man. 

Although he was still a little bit stiff and a bit overwhelmed by the attention, George had carried himself well. He had even managed to buy wine for most of the men. Aramis suspected Athos might have helped the new Musketeer to realise that gesture. 

Remy had arrived late in the evening and although he had sat with d’Artagnan for a while his attention was mostly on the Pierre who was sat across the room being regularly toasted for his bravery by his comrades. The two had disappeared together as the men had begun to break up the celebrations and head back to their respective garrisons. 

George had been helped back to the Musketeer garrison by Porthos who was practically carrying the inebriated man by the time they disappeared from sight. Aramis wondered if George would be fit to work the following day, he hoped Treville would not admonish him so soon after gaining his commission. 

Aramis’ thoughts were interrupted by dexterous fingers undoing his breeches. He tried not to react and pretended to continue to enjoy his wine. When the fingers started pulling at the tie’s on his underclothes Aramis gave up on the nonchalant pretence and put his wine glass on the floor before relieving his lover of his own drink.

‘I thought you were tired,’ he said.

‘I recovered,’ replied his lover as he pushed his free hand through Aramis’ hair and pulled him forward for a kiss. 

As d’Artagnan deepened the kiss and slipped his hand inside Aramis’ underclothes, Aramis could not help a contented smile. For the first time in nearly a year, he felt at his safest. He still had the threat of the Cardinal. The man’s suspicion would never go away, but Aramis would learn to deal with that. But being there to see the death of his interrogator had given him an ending to the most horrible time of his life. Gagnon had brought hurt to him and his friends, but now he was gone, along with his men. 

For the moment they could relax. Although, Aramis was sure that moment would not last.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I’ve nearly finished writing the next story. (I had a few ideas all at once!)


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